


The New Hajime

by Slurrrp69



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Character Study, Panic Attack, identity crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slurrrp69/pseuds/Slurrrp69
Summary: Hinata explores his identity post sdr2
Kudos: 26





	The New Hajime

Hajime had woken up out of the pod a day prior, the whole thing was a nasty and painful ordeal as his head raged against him being any sort of awake and his body was covered in new and old sweat. Immediately people had tried to talk to him, at hand of the fact that he was the only one that had awoken upon opening the pod, apparently everyone else was still unconscious. It was hectic and annoying, but it seemed most had caught onto how exhausted he was despite just having woken up and almost as soon as they transported him to his hospital room, he found himself alone. It had happened so quickly, from everyone trying to talk to him at once, to him being alone, surrounded by quiet, that he did not fully comprehend it for the first few minutes. Blinking slowly as he was still staring at the places where people had stood and talked.

When he had first jolted awake, still with the sensory pads attached to his chest and head, his head had ached as if someone had taken a jackhammer to it. And he could only barely squint his eyes open due to the sudden difference in light, which was worsened due to his body’s heightened sensitivity. He had felt chilled and his limbs and muscles were weak from disuse.

He sighs, laying down in the hospital bed. The ticking of the wall clock in the room being the only noise. He felt a deep weariness that weighed on him, deep down to his bones, but his mind was racing, focusing so much on that tick… tick… ticking of the clock. Or the occasional mutters of conversation he’d hear from beyond the door. Now that he was calmer and less detached from his body and everything around him, he became uncomfortably aware of what a tangled dirty mess it was. Oil and dirt and other buildup that made his hair almost sticky to touch. As soon as he could he was going to chop it all o-

“Aaugh!” Hajime chokes, his head pounding even heavier than before, he clenches his eyes shut, the dim lighting from the window suddenly too strong. The ticking of the clock gets louder, loud enough for Hajime to hear over the roaring in his ears, his hand flies up to grasp at his thin hospital gown, wanting to reach deeper. He wanted to reach inside his chest and force his heart to stop beating so fast, wanted to control his lungs and breathing from inside since it didn’t appear as if he could get them under control the normal way. The ticking of the clock seemed to speed up and as it did, his heart sped up alongside it. Hajime watched with wide eyes as the fingers of the clock spun round and round as his breathing quickened. Every turn on the clock felt like a rope was pulling tighter on his neck. Before he had even registered it, he had stood on suddenly strong legs and the clock was in two pieces in his hand. Bits and pieces of it falling from its inside to the ground.

Huh?

Did he just rip apart a clock with his bare hands? Forcing himself to think back he remembered he hadn’t just ripped it in half… he had karate chopped it in half…

Ahh right… he was the ultimate karate master now… and the ultimate martial artist, ultimate weight lifter, ultimate athlete, ultimate this and that and blah blah blah… Now without that annoying ticking he could finally think. That’s right, he was the ultimate hope, the ultimate talent now. He could do… practically anything… How boring…

“Ah!” Hajime says shocking himself at his train of thoughts. Those thoughts… were so much like Izuru Kamukura’s, but he thought that was over with, he thought he had managed to come back into his body as the Hajime Hinata that was in the neo program. Wanted to settle himself back into his body, like one would settle under their warm bed covers after a long day. He had expected comfort and familiarity, and instead found a stranger already sleeping in his bed. How much of Izuru was left in this body, how much of Hajime had come back?

It wasn’t like they were two personalities sharing a body, no then Hajime wouldn’t feel this strongly about cutting his hair, and he wouldn't be able to just chop some clock in half. He wouldn't think being able to do a bunch of cool shit was boring. Those were  _ his  _ traits. Hajime wasn’t like that. He shouldn’t feel that.

But is that really a fair statement to make? After all, Izuru was still Hajime… It wasn’t like he was a completely different person, they weren’t just of one body, but of one mind, one soul. His soul had been unstable after the experiment, but it had slowly adjusted as Izuru. Though as was typical, Izuru got bored of that stability. Hajime’s memories were fuzzy during his years as Izuru, but he was almost certain Izuru had given himself over to Future Foundation willingly. There was no way he’d be caught if he was actively trying to escape them. Was he hoping for something like this? Did he predict this outcome? Did Izuru… not want to exist in this world anymore? It wouldn’t be out of character considering the original Hajime did the same only a few years prior. Give up his body to some organization and leave his mind.

Hajime wonders looking down at the broken clock in his hands, seeing his reflection. One red. One green. He didn’t know his eyes had changed like that. What a visual representation for the state of his soul, of his being.

Hajime drops the rest of the clock and turns to lay back down on the bed, his knees giving out underneath him as he turns, falling to the ground in a heap.

“Ah, how annoying,” he says unenthusiastically.

He pulls himself towards the bed with his arms, after his legs refuse to cooperate. Scrambling himself along, and pulling himself into the bed with a swing.

Now mainly back on the bed, he stares at the ceiling and sighs. Whatever. Who cares who he is, how he acts now. A contradiction of both of his selves at all times. It doesn’t bother Haji… Hajime, it doesn’t bother him that he feels so unfamiliar in his own body, like an alien in a foreign country, where the language was half what you spoke, and half utter nonsense. He didn't mind having his rational thoughts constantly interrupted by screaming silence, or by thought processes that were so unlike his own, and yet they were happening in his brain so they WERE his thoughts.

He didn’t care, it didn’t bother him. It didn’t bother him that his own name suddenly felt foreing when applied to him. As if it should belong to another person, and yet… he had been called it his whole life, he answered to it, he recognized his own reflection by that name, and yet it suddenly felt too wrong… But so did Izuru Kamukura. Neither name felt right, nor truly wrong.

The long hair was itchy and annoying, but the thought of cutting it short devastated him, almost as if it was a limb he was losing. An essential part of him, of who he was.

He didn’t know what to think or what to feel. And he also didn't care. What difference did it make, if he didn’t like his name, what difference did it make if his body didn't feel right, as if he was only able to fill out half of it.

All this contemplating led him nowhere, trying to figure out his identity, who he was now, was apparently not a matter that could be dealt with by simply thinking about it. He felt no further in his search for his current self, he was still as hollow inside as before, as lost as before.

He sighed looking up at the ceiling.

Maybe it was just a matter of time… maybe he just needed a bit more time to be himself in this body, his new self, whoever that might be…

He thinks of his plans for tomorrow as he falls asleep.

  
  


He ended up sticking with the name Hajime Hinata. And keeping the long hair, as bothersome as it sometimes was to maintain. 

When he looked in the mirror he didn't see the Hajime of before, nor the Izuru. But this new strange mix of the two of them. Combining both halves in his best attempt to be whole. 

Over time he’ll collect new traits, new quirks indicative of this new long haired Hajime. Quirks like a distaste for zucchini and anchovies. And hobbies like scrapbooking. Things neither of his selves had ever had before. Things that helped fill the edges and sew the seams of his new identity.


End file.
